“Oh how rude you are,to friends who have offered you their house for a few days.Ungrateful child,” Angelique admonished, teasingly.
“I’m going to unpackand take a swim in the pool, I think. Then I will examine thecontents of your fridge, and plunder your wine collection. I didbring some of my own supplies. But I’m sure yours will be better.Enjoy your time in Tuscany.”
“I will. Enjoy ourhospitality. Our house is your house … well, for a few days anyway.If you are still there on Monday, we might join you. Gerard ishoping to wrap up his business here in a couple ofdays.”
“That would be lovely,Angelique. I would love it if you could come and spend some timewith me. I was planning on flying back to Australia nextweek.”
As she had her pick of vacantguestrooms, Chloe selected a bedroom with an adjoining ensuite,unpacked her suitcase, and slipped on her swim suit and anoversized cotton T-shirt. She roamed the rest of the beach housebarefoot, thoroughly taken by the style and noting how casual andunpretentious this house appeared, even with some antiques amongstthe reproductions. The couches and armchairs looked so soft andinviting, the long mahogany table in the dining room could easilyaccommodate a dozen or so diners. The kitchen had modernappliances, but still retained the classic French country kitchenappeal.
Every taste had beenconsidered in the extensive wine collection, and nearly every foodcombination had been stocked in the fridge freezer. Her simplesupplies sat sadly on one shelf looking very out of place, comparedto the rich pâte, cured ham and smoked salmon the mysterious JeanClaude had bought for her. She poured a glass of wine and picked upa magazine to read outside. The doorbell rang and she jumped andthe wine sloshed in the glass. Woops.Nearly dropped it.
A dapper gentleman of aboutsixty-five, with a shock of pure white hair and wire-rimmed glassesstood on the doorstep. He wore black trousers and a white cottonshirt under a waistcoat. He had a wicker basket over his arm.Golden loaves of bread, and small plump dinner rolls lightly dustedwith flour nestled within, on a white linen napkin.
“BonsoirMademoiselle. Je m’appelle Jean Claude. Je suis legardien.”
“BonsoirJean Claude. Je m’appelle Chloe. Entrez s’il vous plait.Parlez-vous Anglais?”
“Yes. I speak English.I came to see if there was anything you need. I brought you somefresh bread.”
“Oh that is so kind. Iwould love some bread. It smells so good.“ Chloe picked up a rolland inhaled the aroma. “It’s still warm. Did you bakethis?”
“I bake fresh breadand croissants when madame and monsieur come to stay. Sometimes Icook for them, and especially if they have guests. They like mycooking.”
“They are very luckyto have you. Have you lived here long?”
“Yes, I lived in thevillage before they bought the land and built this house. When theywere looking for a caretaker, it was a blessing to me. They builtthe gatehouse and allowed me to live here to look after theproperty. I also do some work around the gardens, some cooking whenthey are here. I am happy living by the beach. Since my wife died Ihave no desire to live anywhere else.”
“We have something incommon, Jean Claude. I am happy when I am near the beachtoo.”
“I will leave thebasket in the kitchen. If you need fresh bread, just leave thebasket at the front door in the morning, and I will bake for you.If you leave a list in the basket, I am happy to pick up some freshproduce from the market.”
“Mercibeaucoup, c’est très gentil. But I can go shopping if I needanything. I don’t want to trouble you. Would you be able to tell meexactly where the market is, and what day would be best?” Chloewatched as Jean Claude’s eyes crinkled at the edges and a smile litup his face.
“But it is mypleasure. It is no trouble. Madame gave me instructions to makesure you were comfortable.”
“In that case, I willdo as instructed and leave a list.”
Jean Claude carried the basket tothe kitchen. “Would you like some cassoulet for dinner later? It isone of my special dishes.”
“I was planning onhaving a swim and then making myself a salad. But your cassouletsounds delicious. How could I say no to a home-cookedmeal?”
“Pas deprobleme. I will bring the food at seven.That is acceptable?” Jean Claude gave a little bow, and headed backto the front door.
“That is more thanacceptable, thank you.” Chloe chuckled to herself as she closed thedoor. A French beach house, home-delivered food, a caretaker withold world charm, the sun, the sea, what more could she want.Nothing, right! Then why did an image of Todd pop into herhead?
Mornings were filled with beachwalks and swims in the ocean. Afternoons were spent chatting toJean Claude as he tidied the garden beds, or spent lazily readingin or by the pool. She had almost exhausted her collection ofpaperbacks. However, her iPad contained more romance novels thanshe could possibly read in a year since she had become addicted to“one click” purchases. Being without a book to read would be heridea of torture.
Her current novel had reduced herto tears in the last few pages. It had been set in Australia, inthe Northern territory. She plucked a tissue from her bag to dabher eyes, and laid down the novel, suddenly homesick.
She pulled the iPad towards herand opened her email to find a welcome message fromSamantha.
Thinking of you andhoping to see your smiling face soon. The house is coming alongnicely. Let me know the details of your return flight and I willpick you up from the airport. Everyone is looking forward to yourreturn.
Love, Samxx
She had found a realfriend in Samantha, someone she hoped she could confide in. But shealso knew Sam had Todd’s welfare uppermost in her mind. In light ofher recent soul searching, could she spill the beans about Paul? Itwould help Sam to understand why she’d had a mini meltdown. It hadtaken years for her to become
